Page 107 of The Hitman’s Final Job

“Come home.”

“I guess I could have a look at your … beds.”

THIRTY-THREE

SILAS

Is it possible for someone’s heart to race so fast it literally leaves their body? Because that’s exactly how it feels right now.

When I ran out of the restaurant, I just wanted to get away before I broke down completely. Before I begged the man in front of me to forgive me and take me back.

I almost begged, but whatever sense of self-preservation I have kicked in and I bolted. The red light at the crosswalk stopped me, and again I almost turned back.

But Vaughn chased me.

Because he loves me.

“I need to take you home,” I say.

He runs his hands over my overgrown hair, his eyes mapping my face like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. “Pine Ridge is a little far away.”

“It’s a good thing that I have an empty apartment two blocks from here.”

His lips brush over mine. “I was specifically told not to go back to the hotel, so I guess I don’t have a place to be.”

I bite his lower lip, his moan making everything tight in my jeans, before I let go. “New rule. If this is going to work out, no one is allowed to mention Rowan in any capacity or at any time we’re so much as giving each other sex eyes.”

“I can live with that. Now tell me where your apartment is before I go into this building and start knocking on doors, demanding that someone take pity on us and let us use their bedroom.”

I laugh and pull him to cross the road. People make way for us and even the traffic lights are green for pedestrians. The quicker we get to my place, the quicker I get this man naked.

When we get into the building, I’m tempted to take the stairs when the elevator isn’t on the first floor, but then I remember I live on the top floor.

Vaughn wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the back of my neck as I press the call button repeatedly.

“We have all the time in the world, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

“Tell that to my dick.”

The ride up is torture. Vaughn pushes me against the wall and kisses me all the way up. We almost miss the elevator doors opening.

“Is that the way up to your roof garden?” he asks, pointing at the stairs.

“Yes, but everything up there is dead. Besides”—I pull him toward my front door—“my bed is this way.”

I thump into the wall as Vaughn nuzzles my neck. “I think we’ve proven that we don’t necessarily need a bed,” he says between kisses.

I groan and press my hips back against his even as I try to open the door with shaky hands. “I don’t have a farmhouse table, Vaughn.”

“Then Silas, for the love of everything you care about, open this damn door and take me to your room.”

The shiver that runs up my spine at the sound of his voice nearly makes me come on the spot. We make it through the door, but as soon as I close it behind us, I’m pressed against it.

“You have a beautiful apartment.”

I laugh because Vaughn hasn’t taken in a single inch of my living space.

But I have, and now I see it for what it really is.